


midday mornings

by connabeth



Series: tumblr prompts [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Married Couple, Mild Language, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, just some feel-good nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:08:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25388806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connabeth/pseuds/connabeth
Summary: Percy and Annabeth enjoy a quiet morning of their married life. Lots of kissing, teasing, and fluff because I can't help myself.Based on the prompts:“I like this. A quiet breakfast with you.”“Hey, you’ve got something on your face. Here, hold still…”
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Series: tumblr prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1838725
Comments: 28
Kudos: 157





	midday mornings

Sunlight filtered through the large panel blinds of their bedroom, the soft yellow hues of morning casting a gentle glow on his wife’s sleeping form. She was still, save for the slow rise and fall of her chest, her expression neutral but not serious. Peaceful. Serene.

Her golden curls spilled out of the messy bun piled on top of her head, curtaining the angles of her cheekbones and the gentle slope of her nose. Her pillowy lips were slightly parted, but she wasn’t drooling. He did enough of that for both of them. She had drifted off, the comforting weight of her head resting on his bare chest, the thrumming of his heartbeat lulling her into a deep sleep. Sometime in the middle of the night, she had shifted from the secure hold of his embrace, her face buried into the memory foam of the pillows. One of her arms remained wrapped around his torso, though, fingertips leaving a whisper of a kiss on the small of his back.

Percy took several moments to unabashedly stare at her resting form, giving in to the natural pull, the magnetism, that drew him towards her, the tendrils of warmth in his chest expanding by the second, yearning for her affection. Words couldn’t do her beauty justice.

With considerable effort, he pulled his gaze away from her and glanced at the dim display of the digital alarm clock on the mahogany nightstand and swore under his breath in surprise.

Turning his attention back to his wife, he scooted his body closer to hers, crowding her space with his large frame. Propping himself up on his elbows, he leaned down to press his lips to the tan stretch of skin on her neck that remained unobscured by her hair. She didn’t stir. He angled his head up and placed a trail of kisses to her jaw, and continued up her face, changing course briefly to press a kiss to the tip of her nose. She finally stirred just as his lips brushed her eyelids.

He pulled away not even an inch, as she blinked her stunning grey eyes open, her world coming into focus. Immediately her eyes widened as she noticed his proximity and stifled a surprised yelp.

“Percy,” she chided, gently smacking his chest. “You need to stop doing that.” But the endeared curve of her lips told him she didn’t really care.

“There are worse ways to get up than your very sexy husband kissing you awake,” he teasingly poked her cheek, his sea green eyes filled to brim with a childlike adoration.

“Oh? Well, where is he, then?”

Percy mocked a hurt expression, clutching his hand over his chest. “This is what I get for showering you with my love?”

She rolled her eyes and pushed his pouting face away, pointedly avoiding the gaze of his baby seal eyes. “Speaking of showers, you could use one.”

He gaped, indignantly. “I don’t smell _that_ bad.”

“No, but your breath does.”

“Thanks, ‘Beth.”

“Yep,” she groaned, as she lifted herself off the bed and padded over to the bathroom, her husband trailing behind her like a lost puppy. But also because he wanted to take his time enjoying the way the muscles of her mile-long, tan legs shifted and flexed with each step. His eyes trailed upward to the curve of her perfect a—

She cleared her throat and he looked up, catching her eyes in the mirror, a small smirk adorning her lips. She knew exactly what he was doing, mostly because he did it every other day in their seven years together, but he knew exactly what _she_ was doing when she chose to sleep in his shirt and his shirt only. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing up behind her, planted a kiss where her neck met her collarbone, and moved away.

“It’s 11:30, by the way,” he yawned, reaching across the granite counter for his blue electric toothbrush. Annabeth pulled out her phone as he ran both their brushes under the faucet and placed a dollop of toothpaste on the bristles.

“Your choice today.”

“Hmm...how do you feel about some Weeknd?”

“You got it.” She scrolled through her Spotify playlist and settled on a song. She placed her phone on the counter and picked up her brush as a soft synth melody began to stream through the speakers, swallowing the buzz of their toothbrushes. They spent the next two minutes of the song scrubbing their teeth, exchanging foamy grins in the mirror and humming along to the music. Annabeth giggled at Percy’s reflection when he forgot to turn his brush off after removing it from his mouth, sending the foamy paste splattering across his face.

“Stop laughing at me!”

“The sole reason I am with you is so that I can laugh at you.”

He pouted, then his expression shifted into a smirk and he wiped his face clean of the mess he made and went to rub it on Annabeth’s arm. She shrieked and dodged his outstretched hand, but her elbow then banged into the edge of the sink counter.

“Ow,” she groaned. “Asshole."

Percy, for his part, looked concerned even though it was nothing. “Are you okay?” he asked, reaching for her elbow, as if to inspect it.

“I’m _fine_. That was like a 0 on our pain scale,” she insisted.

He ignored her statement, declaring, “I’m gonna kiss it better.”

“Jesus fuck—” he cut her off, placing a feather-light kiss on her elbow, then moved up to plant a firmer one to her forehead. Annabeth pretended his touch didn’t send her heartbeat into an erratic rhythm and turn her stomach to mush. It was crazy how the simplest of touches could still do that to her, after all these years. But that was just the beauty of him.

“Okay, you dork,” she muttered, lovingly, rolling her mirthful eyes, “I’m hungry. Put those nice hands of yours to use and make me breakfast.” They finished washing their faces as the song faded out and headed to the kitchen.

“Good to know you only want me for my food.”

“I thought it was clear you're my trophy husband,” she said, cheekily.

“Okay, true. You have to admit I make the prettiest trophy husband, though.”

She patted his cheek and moved past him. “You sure do. No one can work an apron quite like you,” she teased, hopping up onto the kitchen counter to watch him cook, lazily kicking her legs.

He didn’t bother putting on an apron, though, and she was glad because as cute as he looked in it, she would much rather ogle the bronzed skin of his shirtless torso. She watched intently as he moved around the kitchen, grabbing ingredients and containers. But she wasn’t paying much attention to what he was doing, instead opting to admire the way his back muscles rippled when he reached for something in the cabinet or his biceps flexed when he pried the bag of waffle mix open. Her eyes shamelessly traced the lines of his abs, trailing down further to the enticing deep V of his hip bones disappearing into his grey sweatpants.

He paused his mindless humming when he felt the intensity of her gaze burning into his skin. He turned his head and caught her eye. “See something you like?” he asked, the devilish troublemaker smirk ever-present on his lips.

“Not particularly,” she replied, feigning nonchalance, subduing the pink creeping up her cheeks at getting caught checking him out.

“You sure?” he turned his body fully to face her now, crowding her against the counter as he stepped between her legs.

“You’re right. Those waffles look delicious,” she conceded, directing her gaze to the warm blue chocolate chip waffles Percy had just removed from the waffle maker.

She moved to hop off the counter and grab a waffle, but Percy stopped her, firmly gripping her hips.

“And just where do you think you’re going, Wise Girl? You don’t get your breakfast until you admit you were drooling over me.”

“First off, it’s lunch,” she said, glancing at the oven’s digital clock that read _12:00 PM_. “And second, I’m not the one that does the drooling between us—”

He cut her off in the best way possible, craning his head up to meet her lips, kissing her senseless. Annabeth completely lost her train of thought. _What was she talking about again?_ The only semi-coherent thoughts her brain could grasp onto were _his lips are so soft_ and _his hands feel so good on me_ . They held each other for several minutes, relishing in the passion of their deep kisses, essentially engaging in a hot high-school make out session. Her hands found their way into his tousled raven curls, and he groaned in satisfaction whenever she tugged on them. How could he resist her when she was wearing _that_? Her legs had wrapped around his hips, leaving virtually no space between them, and his hands roamed the smooth skin of her back underneath ~~her~~ his shirt. Their breathless kisses gradually turned slower, more languid, matching the lazy midday atmosphere, the steady heat of the sunbeams streaming through the windows, the quietness of the surrounding neighborhood. 

After their lips were thoroughly swollen and red, she pulled away from him. “We should probably get to those before they get cold,” she pointed out, gesturing to the waffles. Percy slowly blinked himself out of the daze her touch had put him and he turned to stare at the waffles, as if forgetting why they were in the kitchen in the first place.

“Right,” he agreed, clearing his throat. He poured a generous helping of syrup over his waffle, filling every pocket, and a little less on Annabeth’s because she never used as much as he did. Grabbing some forks and knives, he settled at her side again, handing her the plate. She pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his eye in thanks and helped herself to the crispy yet gooey waffle on her plate.

They both ate in comfortable silence, only the sound of clanging utensils and chewing in the air. He was a faster eater than her, so he had finished his meal before she was three-quarters of the way through hers. Where it all went, she had no idea. Her husband really had a bottomless stomach. She thanked their fast demigod metabolism.

He set his plate down and ran his warm palms over the skin of her thighs in soothing motions.

“I like this. A quiet breakfast with you.” His voice was tender and a little shy, but certain, as if there was no place he’s rather be.

She met his gorgeous green eyes and matched his sweet smile with her own. “We have a lifetime of this ahead of us,” she reminded him, intertwining her free hand with his. He beamed at her, content, and _holy fuck_ what she would do to keep that adoring, sated look on his face there forever.

He leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead, the warmth of lips burning onto her skin, sending a shudder through her body. He pulled away slightly and his eyes fell to the corner of her lips. “Hey, you’ve got something on your face. Here, hold still…”

He cupped her face and was about to reach her lips when she jerked back. “You are not licking syrup off my face.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Fine, kiss it off my face, whatever. It’s the same thing.”

“Why not?” he pouted.

“Because that’s so cliché,” she whined.

He rolled his eyes with an amused smile. “All the things we’ve said and done together and you think _this_ is cliché? Just accept it, ‘Beth, we are _that_ couple.”

He leaned down again, and this time, she relented, letting him kiss away the mess on her face. They settled in their embrace, basking in the warmth of the day and of each other, a feeling of gratification and euphoria washing over them. They didn’t leave the kitchen for a while after that.


End file.
